


Dreams of Altissia

by Calesvol



Series: WIPs [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dark Past, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-03-20 21:32:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13726389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calesvol/pseuds/Calesvol
Summary: Based onv0a'sNoctluna art series of the same name, Luna has been through hell and back in the journey to become Oracle, especially following the invasion of Insomnia. With Noctis and Lunafreya finally in Altissia together, after twelve years they break down old barriers and finally meet the real people letters and notebooks alone couldn't bear the weight of.





	1. Dreams of Altissia I

(Warnings: M, sexual content)

* * *

 

She wondered how poets could do it. How they managed to make collapse so ruinously beautiful. Lunafreya had always wondered why her fall couldn’t be like a supernova she’d learned of in her childhood. Beautiful nebulae that came after something sinister and glamorous. Nothing that had happened to her was beautiful. There was nothing romantic in the way the hair clip clung to blonde strands as the only reminder of _him_. Of a man who had rent the very skies to see the Ring in her palm, on a chain around her neck she wore with the one her mother had gifted her when she’d first ascended.

 

This wasn’t the vision of the Oracle she was supposed to be. Luna sat on the cold marble floors of her living quarters, a temporary place Camelia had given on loan. She didn’t sit, no. She sagged. Like melting ice, wilting flowers that forgot was what warmth was like at the mercy of autumn’s chill.

 

She wasn’t allowed to be weak. But as her life was siphoned into Havens, into healing, in holding a weight so monstrous as the dark from the world’s fragile light; she was atlas shrugged, atlas kneeling on his last legs. She, woman. She, Oracle and figurehead and a weight so monumental it could make her bow beneath its weight.

 

That memory still haunted her. Luna couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt more alone, when Nyx’s voice had been drowned beneath the flames she recalled, of her mother screaming her brother’s name. At how time seemed to slow to a halt when Regis had been slain, hacked like lamb’s meat on an altar of Niflheim’s choosing. Those eyes so wide, death shouted as his breath was stolen and she swore she could hear it behind the shimmery barrier the king had erected. It sounded like her mother, it sounded like Glauca’s blade withdrawing after burrowing into flesh.

 

Feeble rays through a grim rain shone through those picturesque windows, Luna momentarily thinking they were like cut-outs from a gingerbread house. So pretty, but as she leaned against the dribbling curtain did it seem almost delirious. Oh, the pain. It stabbed. Carrying little blades as the sacrifices of others reminded her: you cannot be weak.

 

How wretched she felt.

 

The melancholy could not last. It’s selfish, she remembered. Eventually, she would have to stand and face the fate of the world again.

 

Footfalls broke her through the silence, Luna unable to bring herself to care. It was like the eve Niflheim had taken Fenestala. Serpents waiting to strike the chicks fallen from the nest. Cornflower blue eyes lifted and she wasn’t sure whether she should sag with relief or shrink in cowardice. How funny; he was supposed to be hunting her.

 

His prosthetic glanced some of the gray, gray light. Luna stared for a moment before turning away. Her gaze is forlorn and haunted as it drops to the floor. “Ravus, am I wicked?” she asks suddenly. She’d stood still. Impotent and paralyzed while her brother screamed and caught aflame.

 

Mismatched eyes level with her own, vulnerable. It’s so raw she can’t meet it. He’s kneeling, she slowly realized. She feels sick. But the marble floor cools her burning skin. His human hand strokes back errant bangs from her face, visibly torn by her state. “Luna, what ever gave you such an idea? You know I could never see you as wicked,” he rebuts earnestly, and he loves her as only a brother can. Their hands close together and he’s shocked by how cold and clammy hers are. Like she’d been holding a chilly nightmare in a vice her whole life. Expecting it to anchor her when all it’d ever done was drown. Cold, like wintery waters.

 

Instead, hers seek Ravus’ artificial one and he almost rears back, as if the slightest touch would tear into her flesh, but in her conviction she holds it. The metal is warmer than her own hand. Even if he cannot feel it. He knows it from the pale way it blanches, how ashen and worn she looks when the shadows cast from the thick curtains slash across her features like blades. “I watched. I could only watch as mother died, when Regis died, when—when Insomnia fell. I could do nothing. When your arm burnt. Why- Why do I only ever watch?”

 

By the gods, he couldn’t take seeing his sister like this. Pulling her into a sudden embrace, he felt her crumble in his arms. Embracing around his neck and shrinking. She’d been strong for so long, and still was. Yet, the horrific things they’d endured together—he was one of the few she felt safe being so vulnerable around. Otherwise, she couldn’t afford to crumple, to be even human.

 

“I’m so sorry, Ravus. For everything!” Luna’s voice cracked as he felt her shoulders shake with sobs, a cold clout of fear and worry gripping his heart in a vice. He wanted to say something, gods know he did. She was his world, his reason for being. Even though he knew she resented him for the longest time for being in the army, she’d learned to forgive him, even if it still raised walls between them. It was hard to distinguish between her brother and the commander, to see him as the former instead of another jailer who rarely allowed her to leave her room.

 

He was speechless. He wanted to comfort her, he did. But when the weight of the years burdened him, it felt useless. Especially after he had contributed to part of Luna’s suffering, even if it had been worth it in the end. Even if it had given the power enough that no one above or below him could take Lunafreya from him. Not after years of sparing chances of seeing her, and only learning of a new scar or bruise that hadn’t been an accident, even if Luna would cover her abusers’ tracks with that.

 

Not when he bore too many of his own from similar circumstances.

 

After a long moment, a dampness in Luna’s airs from the salty trails of tearsnstained her cheeks red and condensed on his own leathers, she withdrew from his embrace. “I want to see Noctis. Is he here yet, Ravus?” she asked suddenly, the Oracle meeting his eyes. She was only allowed to be Luna for so long.

 

Ravus swallowed thickly and released her. He didn’t have to be the commander. Not yet. “I received word from our agent in the immigration office that he has arrived with his retinue. Shall I arrange a meeting?” For this, he would pretend the mere thought of Noctis didn’t arise bile and vitriol in his throat. He made Luna happy. That much was irrefutable.

 

“Please,” Luna replied after a long moment, wiping away her tears and swiping away the bangs that had fallen loose. Ravus sighed, standing up off the floor and offered his hand for her to take, she doing so as she stood herself up. She was strong, even in a gesture so minute. A radiant young woman who reminded him so much of their mother.

 

“I’ll shall make the arrangements. I won’t be long, Lunafreya.”

 

“Thank you, Ravus.”

 

* * *

 

It would be several hours before Ravus would be able to issue the last command for the patrols to cease their duties for the day, the empire justifying it as necessary security in lieu of the wedding to take place. A curfew had been issued as well, though it was more of a temporary doing on Ravus’ part so that a rendezvous could be conducted with minimal interference. For he knew he’d never hear the last of it if Luna was allowed to wander the streets unsupervised.

 

But, under cover of night and incognito did the Fleuret siblings abscond from Lunafreya’s dwellings in the Parliamentary palace and was Ravus able to ascertain the public gardens little known to tourists. A place frequented by locals, when they came to the locked, wrought iron gates did Luna watch as Ravus unlatched the gate, heaving it silently open enough for her to slip through and closing it when she had with a clangor.

 

“Lunafreya, there is a back gate from which you and the prince may utilize should you wish to take this meeting elsewhere. You’ve the phone, correct?” he questioned once she made it through, the dewy lighting from spheres appointed throughout giving her an ethereal glow.

 

“Yes. Please, do not worry for me, brother. Should anything arise, I’ll be certain to contact you. I promise.” Ravus took her hand through the bars and squeezed it, Luna smiling reassuringly back. It was sad he didn’t even wish to speak with Noctis, but she understood. Someday, perhaps.

 

Even if she knew it might never truly come.

 

With a final reassurance, Ravus slipped away and Luna felt as though she could finally breathe.

 

These gardens were unquestionably exquisite. Though little could compare to the sylleblossom fields and the interminable gardens in Tenebrae, it was radiant in the moonlight nonetheless. Cypress and olive trees native to the land framed the periphery, offering a subtle, guarded air to it. The colors came alive even in the lunar glow and she felt a sense of peace break through everything else she felt.

 

“Noctis?” she beckoned in the dark quietly, certain not to call too much attention to them, even if the city was as devoid of unwanted activity as her brother had promised. Years under the yoke of the empire made it difficult to conceive a true peace. To never look over her shoulder or doubt the intentions of people.

 

“Luna?” The man in question had been seated on a park bench, too nervous to even think of passing any waited time playing an RPG on his phone. He arose as immediately as he heard her voice, a dreamy beckon that he remembered in all his waking daydreams. Ashen blue eyes met those bright blue, and Luna swear she heard her own heart skip a beat.

 

It was strange being before the person. This man she had created an image of all her life as a lifeline to turn to whenever things grew desperately dark. The king of light the oracle was to stand beside. They had exchanged lengthy letters, brief thoughts via the notebook when she was forbidden other modes of communication, but still—she built that shining vision of him. Luna traitorously wondered if she was truly ready for the real Noctis. To wed him before they rose to meet their fate.

 

“It’s...been awhile, hasn’t it?” Noctis’ eyes didn’t meet hers exactly, rubbing the back of his neck and even his face was uncertain as to what he should express. Worry, certainly, and a distant melancholy. He neared her. He smelt like the countryside. Like constrained freedom. “I’m just...glad you’re alright, Luna.” Halting, and shy. The figure of a man who had been sheltered behind closed walls and never allowed to become a prince. Though, Noctis extended his hand for her to take. And she did. Gods above, she needed to hold it.

 

“It’s so very good to see you, Noctis,” she murmured in her own sussurus, but what strength it still carried! It awed Noctis. Truly, it did.

 

Gods, he was drawn to it. He had no right over her, her body, like the empire believed; like it tethered her person to them long ago. But, when she saw the distant longing in his eyes warm his cheeks, Luna realized something: she wanted him. Not the king of light. Not the crown prince. Here, and now, she didn’t care about a prophecy. Gods, she wanted to feel like a person. She craved to be loved for who she was, not as oracle. Not as the princess of Tenebrae. But as Luna.

 

When he said her name she felt realer than she had in all her maladaptive daydreams.

 

He felt it, too. Slowly did they draw nearer, moon as their pale, silent witness. They kissed. There was nothing pure, nothing chaste in the passion they exchanged. That dire plea to feel real, to drown out the trauma both had endured a lifetime of. She was blonde and beautiful, and he wanted her more than his next breath. It felt foolishly passionate, when there was still so much left to speak of. But—she didn’t care. Luna wanted a love as careless as poetry. And he was here, and they wanted each other. He was her fiance. They could do something forbidden together.

 

Noctis’ hands roamed over her body. Her body, not the oracle’s. Clad in trousers and a blouse and white sandals and loose braid, surely she didn’t look it, but this was her. Her skin trembled when she felt Noctis’ fingers dart beneath the hem of the blouse and skirt along her waistline, trying to feel the softness of her skin beneath. Arousal pooled low in her belly and she wanted to straddle his hips, do the unspeakable here in this park—but, no. She still had her propriety. Luna was a daughter of Tenebrae through and through.

 

“Noctis,” she murmured against his lips when she broke contact, Noctis almost chasing hers anew. But, she stopped him. “Not here. Secretary Camelia lent us a nuptial room, perhaps...we ought retire there instead.”

 

“You know where it is?” Noctis prompted after, the blonde smiling in her own giddiness. She could feel the beginning of Noctis’ arousal much more lucidly than her own, and it excited her. “Lead the way.”

 

Taking him full by the hand, the older woman led him through Campos and piazzas usually occupied by daytime, shored palazzos sleepily bowing over the clear, cool waters. Altissia was beautiful at night, she decided. Beneath the moon, they were simply an anonymous couple. No one truly knew them here. Not even daylight, but Lunafreya had no desire of breaking this fairy tale spell.

 

She knew there was so much they still had to say. But, for now, what harm was there in breaking down the first walls with their bodies? To conceive of a union as people? In the oldest way there was? When they ghosted down a corridor leading to the room, magnificent frescoes and fresh white moldings and marble enunciated where the moon could strike, clearance was easily granted through a card her brother had gifted her.

 

The room itself was modest. Compared to others, at least. A four-poster canopy bed dominated the space, a cobalt blue, satin spread on a mattress that looked soft enough to fall upon. Richly ornamented, gold moldings and gold leaf appointments furnished an otherwise modest space, too dark to truly spell but the view from the sole two windows was exquisite. Curtains still affording some privacy, Noctis followed her with an enchanted look on his face. He was the one to close the door behind them, swallowing thickly as Luna continued to lead them.

 

He watched, enraptured, as she began unbuttoning her blouse and revealed creamy skin beneath, pale and glowing. “You’re beautiful,” he stated frankly, earnestly, Luna adoring that about him. A puckish smile adorned her lips, expression coy.

 

“Might you help me, Noct?” she inquired while turning her back to him once the blouse was discarded, bra begging to be removed. Starting from his rapture, he grinned nervously but set to gently unclasping her bra, nose pressing into the flowery scent of her hair. Though, nervousness wasn’t set to last, it seemed. Letting it be unhooked, just as Luna was beginning to shrug it off did Noctis’ hand circle around her rib cage and generously grope her breasts, Luna leaning back and moaning softly.

 

“’m not entirely inexperienced, y’know,” he murmured into the shell of her ear, the woman biting her lip as her cheeks flushed.

 

Completely uninterested in fiance’s past sexual escapades, she let him do as he pleased, undoing the fly of her trousers and slipping a hand in and past her underwear, working circles upon her clitoris that elicited her thighs to squeeze together. “Noct—“ she huffed breathlessly, curving her spine into his torso now as she entrusted those devilishly undoing ministrations to her prince.

 

Though, Lunafreya wasn’t an easily spellbound woman. Nor was she hapless and hopelessly pure. Spinning around unexpectedly, like in the self-defense lessons her brother had mentored her in did the oracle pin Noctis to the bed beneath her, the prince momentarily stunned before laughing in an infectious way, causing even Luna to grin. “You didn’t think I’d be so easy, did you, prince Noctis?” she queried with considerable levity, the affection between them palpable.

 

“You, easy? You used to win whenever we tried mud wrestling, remember? Rav always got so mad whenever we’d hug him after, since he worried an’ all.”

 

Luna’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “You enjoyed that part especially. Getting brother all dirty.” Noctis only shrugged with an exaggerated frown, Luna pinning Noctis’ wrists to the bed. “Brother isn’t here, Noctis. We’ve nothing to fear from anyone.”

 

Spellbound again, he let himself relax and cop a quick feel of her breasts, Luna swatting it away with a smile. Insistently did she silently urge Noctis to remove his shirt, his gloves. She tossed them to the floor, motioning to remove her own pants before straddling him again. He warmed from the sight of her, so bare and flush with a light pink that colored her skin adorably.

 

“Wait, hang on,” Noctis motioned as he quickly glanced at the end table and groped blindly for the handle to the sole drawer, hoping Camelia’s promise of this bedroom would give them the necessities. Finding what he was looking for, some expensive and obscure brand of lube, he set it aside before popping it open and applying some to his first two fingers. Luna gazed at him, knowing what he was about to do, but unprepared as he gently coaxed his fingers inside her with a whine. It barely took time at all before her essences soaked his fingers, prepping her.

 

Though already aroused, she mewled pleasurably as he worked his fingers inside of her and she ground hard on his straining cock, Noctis biting back a moan while the flushed woman blearily indicated for a condom. “Noct, please—allow me,” she directed, fumbling for one that he slid over, tearing it open and wringing free the condom itself. Already gelled with lubricant, she eased it on his cock once it was free of his own jeans, pushed down his thighs so that they might be skin to skin. Though much of them mutually wished to be without, they couldn’t afford any accidents to happen.

 

Gods, they were so impatient for each other. Luna controlled this encounter, lifting her pelvis to allow for Noctis’ member to be eased inside her, hands on his muscular chest as she gyrated her hips. “Fuck—you feel so good,” Noctis moaned as his hips lifted, Luna gasping as it thrust in deeper. Fully sheathed, she trembled with heat and arousal as she rode him. Hands joined, it could just be them, for once.

 

Maybe this was recklessness. There was so much both wished to forget, so many fresh deaths and fires burning in the dark pith of their minds. Places they never wished to return to, to never again see. Here, it was just them and the scent of sex, intoxicating and wonderful as Noctis ground up hard and flushed beneath her. And she rode him, Noctis panting in time while she mewled between breaths, and it was them. Only them.

 

They came what felt like a blissful eternity later, within moments of each other. Noctis’ body seized up and Lunafreya swore she felt heaven for the first time, gossamer and warm between her thighs. She collapsed on him, like a star gone supernova, but the aftermath was shining and beautiful. Perspiration glittered on her skin, her breath exhaled from the exertion, but Noctis’ soft petting through tussled strands of gold brought her back. The constellations sweat had made on her skin would evaporate, she knew.

 

The wouldn’t heal her. Lunafreya wasn’t a girl any longer who believed the pretty lies her guardian goddess had told her. Those that had fattened the calf before he learned the scent of blood minutes before the slaughterhouse. She had learned to starve herself from them, to listen to anything but. Noctis had not come to save her; not when shackles as divinely made them left ruddy, rusted marks on his skin, too.

 

But, they could lay here. She gazed at him and he at her, and for once, for a flickering second, they pretended love could conquer everything. But, it didn’t. Their scars wouldn’t heal after a night. He wasn’t the idealized king of light her younger self had dreamt in her darker days, and she couldn’t save him from his fate.

 

Maybe, with time. Maybe the gods would forgive her for being more woman and human than they wished she was.

 

Cleaned as well as they could, they lay together, skin to skin. “Goodnight, dear Noctis,” she murmured into his ear, and she meant it.

 

Maybe their dreams would bring them refuge. Maybe.

 

“Night, Luna.”


	2. Dreams of Altissia II

Warning(s): M, child abuse mention, some sexual scenes

* * *

She couldn’t remember a morning so peaceful, where a dreamless sleep had yielded an unerring sense of peace. When azure eyes fluttered open, it became clear. Laying on her side, she rolled over and found Noctis shifting sleepily as his nose had been buried in her back, bicep utilized briefly as a sort of pillow that was obviously disturbed when she rolled over. _Still such a deep sleeper,_ Luna observed fondly as she ghosted a caress along his cheekbone that caused his face to twitch some, but he was otherwise undisturbed.

 

Wistfully, and maybe with brief envy, she wondered what life Noctis had lived that allowed him to sleep with such an unfettered deepness. She knew better than to think Noctis’ life had been wholly without obstacles, with traumas of his own, but an undisturbed sleep was foreign to her. Lunafreya remembered those nightmarish early nights when Ravus was her only defense against lecherous and domineering men who saw them as spoils of war.

 

Several times had Ravus given himself up like that, in her place. So her dignity would be intact while Luna spent the whole night quaking in terror for what they did to her brother.

 

They were prisoners of war. Maybe still so. Peace hadn’t come until later at night and she was so, so used to sleeping with a razor blade beneath her pillow. Something to defend herself, and there had been many times when Ravus or Gentiana couldn’t be there that she’d been forced to use it, even if she never killed.

 

No, merely impressed upon these malevolent men that the Oracle was not a girl to be trifled with.

 

It was only much later that Lunafreya was allowed to live in Fenestala again, where the people rallied around her and guarded her with their lives. That didn’t always make her sleep any easier, however.

 

Such defensiveness had been learned, and never left her.

 

Though, that bitterness ebbed away when she saw stormy blue eyes blink over at her, a fondness pooling like honey in her breast and made such thoughts impossible to hold on to. In these long years, she never blamed him. Not when it was up to them to save the world.

 

“Mornin’ Luna,” Noctis greeted, voice thick with sleep, but his smile was so soft, so seraphic she thought she might melt beneath the tenderness of his gaze. A tenderness she wondered she deserved after the fleeting bitterness of her thoughts, her own unconsciously spanning as she swiped an errant bit of bangs from Noctis’ face. Even as a child, Noctis had always been so lovely and compassionate, willing to do anything to make not only her happy, but the world. Even if Regis had mistakenly sheltered him from his role as prince, there was no one more princely than him.

 

“Good morning, Noctis. Did you sleep well?” she broached, feeling his arm remove from being a pillow for her neck than angling himself so he might pull her in closer. It was only then that she blushed at their nakedness, feeling something a little too firm press into her thigh. A sharp flush suffused and she wouldn’t get her answer straight away.

 

She mewled softly when he swept her underneath him, back arching and nails clawing into his shoulder blades as she embraced him with her arms and legs, already wet with want and cloying when he kissed her, unrefined but still passionate. Their bodies were hot and warm, Luna never realizing how sorely she wanted a man on her, inside of her, until she and Noctis had slept together the way they did, yielding themselves soft and vulnerable.

 

It wasn’t meant to be as painstakingly deliberate as last night’s had been; just some quick shag to relax them both. She rolled underneath him as Noctis thrust into her, her body prepared compared to last night’s virgin experience. For Luna was still a woman, and she still desired, still wanted to feel cherished by more than just family, but by a man who loved her and she, him. That didn’t absolve the love, the pulsating need as she felt his hips gyrate inside of her, he a man and she a woman who was allowed to ache with need and want and not feel shame for it.

 

They climaxed long moments later, Luna’s arched back collapsed into the sheets as she swore she could hear Noctis fall asleep again into the pillow, but not before Luna jostled him awake. “Come now, you don’t intend to make my morning like this, do you?”

 

Noctis couldn’t help but smile shyly at her, lifting himself up a bit. “Sorry, ‘s just—you’re so warm, and all.” He rested his chin on her sternum, that boyish smile making her melt again. In their afterglow, maybe it wasn’t so untrue.

 

“Am I now, Noctis? I wasn’t aware Lucian princes preferred using oracles as pillows. Perhaps I ought to keep that in mind,” Luna said with a playful roll of her eyes, manfully propping herself up and rolling him off so they might finally proceed with their morning. Taking him by the hand and tugging the sleepy man by his hand, she led them into the shower where they sensually kissed each other as the enormous Jacuzzi, in-laid bath filled with water from its gilt faucet. Lovely in its shade of marble white, part of her was touched Camelia had allowed them such stately living quarters.

 

The sunlight bleached through the translucent white curtains that adorned the few opaque windows within the bathroom, the pair of them concentrating wholly on bathing themselves, cleansing each other of the acts from the night before.

 

It shouldn’t feel like sin, Luna reminded herself as she massaged her fingers along Noctis’ scalp, the younger man drowsily bowed forth from the deeply relaxing ministrations. Even if Luna herself couldn’t feel so at ease. This…it was new. Intimacy. Feeling each other skin to skin and not having to feel as though she deserved to be damned or judged for the most natural thing there was: a bond between people.

 

People who loved each other?

 

The sudden mental question caused Luna to stop, hands sudsy and frozen that Noctis didn’t notice immediately. Her brows puckered together: did they love each other? A guilty conflict brewed in her chest, if because it hadn’t felt that way. Because of the age difference between them, it wouldn’t have been right to see him as a romantic interest. In fact, she hadn’t. But, here and now, with the water the only thing that divided their bodies, realization trickled slowly.

 

It had been maybe a year and a half ago after the prince’s birthday. Sometime in the Fall. The letters they were sending each other didn’t sound so friendly, as mischievous. What were innocent prods to her changing appearance—how she wore her hair up now, the copious amounts of gowns—weren’t those of just a boyish, platonic curiosity. Even if they didn’t pinpoint one another, some of those conversations had spanned pages and pages. About the future, what they thought ruling their kingdoms would be like. Assigning themselves spouses with grey faces and placated smiles and wondering what being wed to them would entail.

 

It was then she realized, she couldn’t see Noctis with any other queen. Ruling alone, and…her, somewhere close by. Not as his queen, but as the Oracle she was supposed to be.

 

…Oh. She didn’t like the thought of that very much, did she?

 

“Luna?” The blonde snapped from her reverie when Noctis had turned around, looking fairly comical with suds still making his hair clump in spiky tufts where her hands had been scrubbing. She smiled kindly at him.

 

“I’m sorry, Noctis. I was simply…thinking,” she explained vaguely, her expression kind but enigmatic. Surely he could see that. Noctis was no fool, after all. “Regardless, we shouldn’t linger too long here. We still have the memorial ceremony to attend.”

 

“Yeah, right. Almost forgot.” Noctis was quiet for a long moment before adding, “…Can I talk to you about something?”

 

“Yes, Noctis, of course,” Luna said, leaning attentively as Noctis moved to sit adjacent to her.

 

“What happened with you and Nyx… Did you see it? When he passed, I mean,” Noctis broached, expression seeming to falter. “He and I were tight. The other guys don’t know how to warp, right? Well, he taught me everything I know in that regard. He was like an older brother to me, and…I know he was in the city. He told me when he drove me to my apartment few nights before the invasion happened.”

 

Lunafreya grew contemplatively quiet after Noctis had spoken. In their letters, Noctis had mentioned Nyx in this capacity. Of how they’d often go with the other Glaives to the immigrant district to hang out after training at Takka’s. She just hadn’t known how close. But in that day and night, she understood why. “Only moments before. He was standing on one of the shoulders of the Lucii. The Mystic. You know which one that is, right, Noctis?”

 

Noctis nodded gravely. “…Yeah, I do. That was Somnus, my ancestor. The guy who started it all.”

 

It was bitter, the way the tears came. They weren’t dramatically sobbed, or anything like that. But, Luna didn’t let them fall in vain. It wasn’t just Regis and Nyx he mourned, but that of his city, his people who had fallen. The Glaives who had betrayed them and the people who had died regardless. Luna embraced him quietly, fingers worked soothingly into his hair as Noctis sobbed into her shoulder, unhindered around her.

 

The memorial service would be soon, but it could wait a few moments longer, couldn’t it?

 

* * *

 

About an hour later did they finish getting ready and dining on a quick, continental breakfast she was certain Noctis was glad to have. Ignis always did sound like an exemplary cook, but nothing quite beat breakfast in bed with someone you loved.

 

Lunafreya mulled that thought over, a quiet blush summoned and deciding that, yes, she did love him. She wanted to.

 

Noctis had sent Ignis a lengthy text and apology, but a picture with Luna quelled any fears and the others were largely okay with it. By an indignant blush and the rattling of his notifications, he was certain they were more than okay with it. Positively zealous as only a man’s brothers could be.

 

Something good in the wake of so much travesty.

 

They arrived minutes later in a motorcade of sorts taken instead by gondola, a few policemen on jet skis flanking them as the rare sort with a secure cabin reserved for nobility and other high-ranking officials meant they were well within their right to sojourn this way. Noctis, smartly clad in a suit, contrasted well with Lunafreya’s white gown. It seemed appropriate for mourning, but above all, she secretly relished in how they would look together.

 

She was allowed to admire her fiancé, wasn’t she?

 

Lunafreya and Noctis disembarked with she on his arm, people murmuring among themselves as they caught a glimpse of a King of Lucis and the Oracle finally together as the empire had promised. Except, it wasn’t in the way they’d hoped to see them together. The wedding, and all that.

 

The sky above was disarmingly clear and sunny, but even she could see the gathering storm clouds that would inevitably gather. Even more so, the darkness that was beginning to encroach on the world, as if they were the last bastion between it. For wasn’t that the truth?

 

Throngs of people gathered before the Cathedral of the Tidemother in expectant wait, Noctis and Luna heading towards the podium where Lunafreya, and possibly Noctis, would be speaking. There was a pall of expectancy and quiet murmuring hung over them, fraught with gossip. Some was less than decorous, but they were too far to catch anything intelligible. The crowds grew quiet as she stepped up to it, chin raised and noble.

 

“Today we are gathered here because we suffered immense losses from the war. A war not of our choosing between the powers of Lucis and Niflheim. However, as we all know, that war has come to an end. Hexatheon above, we have been blessed with a peace we must keep, we must maintain—especially in the time of darkness to come.” Noctis stepped forth and took her hand, she smiling at him and he at her.

 

“But, we are not here to luxuriate in misery. No, there are those we have lost from all sides. From Lucis, Tenebrae, Accordo, and Niflheim, not only from the war. Countless lives we would do well to remember.” Luna hung her head, raising her hands and asking for supplication from the people amassed. “Please, bow your heads and meditate upon those you have lost. And together, we pray.”

 

Though she was of the people, her prayers weren’t simply for them. Luna prayed for her mother, for her father, for King Regis and Nyx Ulric that would join Noctis’ in heaven. The Astral Plane was home to them, she knew. And, grimmer still, they would both be joining them soon.

 

But, as the gods might, she could only hope and pray that they might be able to be happy before that time came. Even if only for a little while.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, just as evening was beginning to fall dusky and pink upon the waters of Altissia, they were on the Altar of the Tidemother. Not to summon, but it was the hour of the remembrance service that would come to its conclusion. Altissians were gathered on water taxis, watercraft, gondola, and even as small as jet skis. Some had even kayaked or rowed to where they were, but the sea of faces had something in common: as they bobbed on the water, each held a floating paper lantern. One for each person one was praying for.

 

At the farthest end of the altar, opposite the raised portion where she’d be standing in a few days’ time, the stair sunk into the water before it disappeared. A raised platform beneath the water meant there was space to stand without worry of drowning, which was where she and Noctis were. Their feet just touching the water, they held three paper lanterns between them: one for Sylva, one for Regis, and the last for Nyx Ulric. The man who had been her selfless friend for a night and had been Noctis’ bother for as long as the prince could remember.

 

Slowly, she and Noctis descended into the water together, the water filling beneath and around her dress in an unusual but welcome sensation. Though the gown would inevitably end up ruined, she didn’t care. Indeed, she didn’t. Not when they were remembering those who had died selflessly, who had sacrificed so much for their sakes. Noctis stood steadfast by her side, the quiet glow of the candles illuminating their faces secretively, as though they were prepared to tell one another a story.

 

Maybe they were. Maybe it was coming.

 

Carefully, once they were submerged to the waist, she and Noctis lowered their lanterns gradually into the water and ensured they were steady before letting the current take them away. Then, almost in unison did those on the waters do the same, a sea of light joining theirs as the currents took the lanterns out to sea that bobbed languidly upon the water.

 

Noctis circled his arm around Luna’s shoulders and brought her close to his side, trying and failing to hide the tears bubbling within her eyes. “I’m sorry, Noctis,” Luna whispered with a quivering voice, shoulders shaking on a sob, “that I couldn’t save them. King Regis or Nyx Ulric.”

 

“Hey, Luna—that wasn’t your fault,” Noctis murmured as he took Luna in his arms, holding her while she wept. “They died protecting what mattered. Please, don’t blame yourself.” By the thickness in his voice, she could tell that he was bare motions away from breaking down himself. “They’re watching over us now. They’re gonna make sure everything’s alright, in the end.”

 

Luna nodded blearily and buried herself against Noctis, warmed by him, comforted and protected.

 

If only they could remain like this for eternity.


End file.
